I love avocados, sometimes (read: daily) stand on my head to get my creative juices flowing, and I could listen to The Beatles sing, “I’ve Just Seen A Face” everyday, for the rest of forever.

Wondering what goes on here? Yup, so are the rest of us.

1. I am a lifestyle photographer. I have the most remarkable clients in the world, and I share their images here to inspire us all to live life with greater love, meaning and joy.

2. I am a writer. This blog is full of many of the curious thinks I have thunk.

3. I am a speaker and life/business consultant. I post upcoming speaking engagements and consulting information here as well.

4. I am most fulfilled by my work as a wife and mother to my 4 sons, one of whom now lives in Heaven. I share bits and pieces of our journey here on this blog. Including our ongoing struggle with grief, our experiences with ADHD and SPD, and our solid faith in a God much bigger than the challenges we face.

But ultimately, I hope that this blog is about something much bigger than all of that.My dream is for this blog to be a place where real life comes to be celebrated and enthusiastically embraced. Not just the pretty stuff, with tailored hems, clean lines,and the new colors for spring . . . but everything else, too. The frazzled mornings, broken hearts, crazy dreams, messy kitchens. . . even the fear, failure, hopelessness and devastation. I want this blog to be a place for every bit of what makes us all living, breathing, feeling human beings, experiencing together this remarkable thing called life.

May this be a place of passion, purpose, laughter, tears, friendship, encouragement and inspiration for us all.

In 2010, our perfect *”Baby Gavin” returned to Heaven after losing a courageous battle with **Pertussis (whooping cough). We are eternally and profoundly grateful to the thousands upon thousands (upon thousands) of friends and strangers from all over the world, of all faiths and creeds, who united with our family in prayer during Baby Gavin’s horrific illness and who grieved with us and continued to petition God in our behalf during the dark days following his tragic death. You may read Gavin’s story as it unfolded by visiting my old blog here. I am committed to sharing my ongoing struggles with grief and our journey toward joy here on the new blog. I am always humbled and amazed by the continued outpouring of love and support. Thank you for sharing in our journey and inspiring us with your unceasing love! God is good!

*My brother Gavin passed away unexpectedly in 2007. With all these Angel Gavins, it can get a little confusing at times, so just know that when I refer to “Gavin” I’m referring to my wonderful brother. When I refer to “Baby Gavin,” it is in reference to my perfect son, both of whom I cannot wait to see in Heaven!

**You will periodically see me blog about The Sounds of Pertussis campaign. I am an unpaid spokesperson and am only compensated travel expenses where applicable for my involvement with this important cause. Join our fight against this deadly communicable disease at www.soundsofpertussis.com or like us on facebook at www.facebook.com/soundsofpertussis.

We want to rejoice, we want to be merry and bright. Yet we find ourselves facing a largely unfamiliar solemnity, a collective ache, an inescapable undercurrent of pain. . .

Because their stockings are still hung by the chimney with care.

Because their gifts still lay wrapped tenderly beneath the tree.

And there will be no eager footsteps in their hallways come Christmas morning. . .

_______________

Felix’s brave momma, Jenna, elected to give birth to him at home. . . with the help of only a midwife and a few trusted friends. (Her husband, Brian, was away on deployment and took part in the experience via Skype.) When I arrived at the home where Jenna was preparing to welcome her son into the world, it was the middle of the night. The stars burned bright in the Scottsdale sky (I mention it only because it was the kind of sky you never forget your entire life through). The lights inside were dim, and there was a tangible tenderness in the air. A room full of women. . . Jenna in the middle. . . slowly, confidently breathing her way through the excruciating pain. As the night wore on, and Jenna’s pain increased, there were moments when it was nearly unbearable to watch. Tears spilled from my eyes, and I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around her. I would have done anything to help bear her pain, and I know my feelings were shared by every other woman in the room that night.

And things went on this way.

For hours.

The intensity of pain Jenna was experiencing lasted all through the night and well into the afternoon of the next day. All the while, there was nothing any of us could do—except for love, encourage, support and stay by her side. All we could do was make certain she knew we loved her and that we weren’t going anywhere.

After Felix was finally placed into his mother’s eager arms, I listened to her genuinely and adoringly thank every woman for their presence through her pain. I listened as she told every one of us, individually, that she couldn’t have survived without us. We had done nothing to ease her pain. Nothing. She brought that baby into the world on her own. She suffered through every breath of anguish. And yet, somehow, our love, our simple presence had made a real difference for her. Jenna’s gratitude was unforgettable, unbelievable and extraordinarily sincere.

So, where do we go from here?

There are so many in this world who are writhing in emotional pain, laboring through overwhelming fear, sorrow, horror . . . and loneliness that cannot be described. For many, and certainly those of Newtown, CT, Hell is a matter of every day life.

Where DO we go from here? I’m afraid I don’t have a perfect answer. I can only explore the question right along with every other member of the human family. . . But I imagine the answer lies somewhere near the region of LOVE. A love that is more complete, more open, more unconditional—a love that is not bound by pretext or restraint.

We need to be kinder with one another, more gentle and forgiving. We need to be slower to anger and more prompt to help. We need to extend the hand of friendship and resist the hand of retribution. In short, we need to love one another with the pure love of Christ, with genuine charity and compassion and, if necessary, shared suffering, for that is the way God loves us…. We need to walk more resolutely and more charitably the path that Jesus has shown. We need to ‘pause to help and lift another’ and surely we will find ‘strength beyond [our] own.’ If we would do more to learn ‘the healer’s art,’ there would be untold chances to use it, to touch the ‘wounded and the weary’ and show to all ‘a gentle[r] heart —Howard W. Hunter

May we come together, as members of the human family, irrespective of race, political affiliation or creed, and let each other know that we are here for one another in complete charity (love) —and we aren’t going anywhere.

natalie:
Kimberly, thank you so much. It's such a tender subject and a very hard one to handle with care. . . I appreciate your kind words. xo. December 22, 2012 11:16 pm

Alie:
i needed this tonight. thank you for your words. December 22, 2012 11:28 pm

natalie:
Allie, I just hopped over to our blog. I'm so sorry for your loss. Amelia is beautiful. I'll be thinking of you this Christmas. xoxoxoxo December 23, 2012 12:01 am

kelly:
what a blessing it must have been for you to share that experience. thank you from the very bottom of my heart for sharing it with us. December 23, 2012 4:13 pm

Janet:
Today in Church we sang the carol, "Away In a Manger." We sang the 3rd verse, "Be near me, Lord Jesus; I ask thee to stay Close by me forever, and love me, I pray. Bless all the dear children in thy tender care, And fit us for heaven to live with thee there." I thought of all those dear children who returned to Him this year, and in years past, and felt immediate assurance that He can "fit us" so we can live with Him and them again. Such is Hope. December 23, 2012 4:34 pm

Shari:
lovely, sweet tender words. thank you for putting it so beautifully and connecting it to your experience with the birth of baby Felix... it was so right. i always feel enlightened reading your words...you speak to my heart. love you dear friend! was thinking of you over christmas, and praying for your heart to be full as you celebrated with your family and one more christmas passed without your sweet Gavin(s) -- one more christmas closer to being with them again. XOXO from HB ALWAYS December 28, 2012 6:17 pm

Kate:
Thank you for sharing these beautiful words. Sometimes just being there is enough. Thanks for the reminder. December 30, 2012 11:54 am

natalie:
Janet, Yes, such is hope. You know, once, when I was in college, I became very interested in the word "hope"—the depth of it's meaning (including origin etc). In the end, I found that the most accurate definition was "to expect with confidence." How's that for beautiful? January 4, 2013 6:04 pm

natalie:
Kelly, It was such a sacred experience to be there. . . it's an interesting "correlation" between Felix's birth and moving forward from Sandy Hook. . . but every time I thought about it, it was the ONLY way I could help myself know how to move forward. . . we're all desperate to DO something. . . anything. I really believe the most profound thing we can do is "be there." I really and truly do. . . January 4, 2013 6:05 pm

Jamie:
Natalie, I found your blog because so many friends had been tagging #gisforgavin on instagram and so I was curious. I read a little bit about the background of your blog and suddenly, I feel very... ungrateful. I lost my sister in 2010 to an asthma attack, while I was pregnant with my first child, my daughter, Claire. I absolutely cannot imagine losing my sister AND my baby, all within a relatively short amount of time. I find that I still find it difficult to even live my life normally because I miss her so much. I am actually afraid to have any more children because I almost lost Claire (she had amniotic fluid in her lungs and stopped breathing right when she was born). I simply don't get how people can find so much joy and beauty in the world when their heart hurts so much. I guess if you, who has been through more, can do it, then I can certainly try. Thank you for inspiring me. I guess bad things happen no matter what, and just because you have something awful happen doesn't make you immune for a while (though I tend to think that surely God wouldn't allow more heartache on top of what I already have, but that is proven untrue). You are a great example of the triumph of human spirit. Thank you. January 8, 2013 4:11 pm

natalie:
Jamie, Thank you for this heartfelt comment. I sincerely understand the feelings you are describing. I think anyone who has experienced significant loss has gone through similar mental and emotional processes. I sure have. It's hard to admit, but there have been times (more than I would like to mention) where I have felt pity for myself—all out, down right, sorry for myself. . . and you know, I've come to realize that it's OK to feel that way from time to time, and I try not to judge myself when those emotions do inevitably arise. They're only natural. The trick is not allowing yourself to get stuck there, right? (Easier said than done, I get that.) I'm so sorry about your sister. With all my heart, I'm sorry. I want you to know, that I KNOW that you will pull through this in a way that is joyous and that you can and will live a happy, full life, despite the pain. It just takes (a lot) of time and (a lot) of patience with yourself, God and the process of grief. Gratitude is good. It really does help us to heal, but we still have to walk the path of grief. . . and we can't beat ourselves up about it. Thank you again for this loving comment. It got me thinking, and I definitely learned a thing or two myself. . . Every single drop of my love to you, beautiful girl. xx, N January 22, 2013 10:51 am

Short medium hairstyles:
Beautiful and cute images of baby.Looks so handsome and adorable .I like this post so much . February 15, 2013 11:26 pm

Julee George:
I have missed you! And adventures of your beautiful family! I sincerely hope that this hiatus from social media means you are doing well and has been good for your soul. But if not, I mourn with you.
You are beautiful. The world is beautiful. God is good; all of the time! February 28, 2013 7:55 am

Rebecca H:
We miss you. Hope all is going well. Please come back home soon! March 16, 2013 3:59 pm